Dust Is What I Have Dust Protects Me
by sunshinetina
Summary: or... The Bath Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson... Kid!Sherlock hates taking a bath. But sometimes it can be rather fun. Only if kid!John is there too. Another fic inspired by the fab art of 'thebritishteapot' on tumblr.


_**Disclaimer: This small ficlet is inspired by the fabulous art of 'thebritishteapot' on tumblr, in particular, this one: ****.com/post/21851131759/dust-protects-me-no-baths-protect-you**_

**DUST IS WHAT I HAVE. DUST PROTECTS ME.**

**or...**

**THE BATH ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES AND JOHN WATSON**

I am almost done here. It is probably past ten but I really don't care. I will do this experiment and then I will feed Mrs Pebble's cat with the dust I composed entirely by myself, and then I'll put the cat on fire. Hurray! And then everyone would be proud of me becau-...

'Come on, Sherlock, you need a bath! Come on!'

'Stop it!'

No, no, no, no! Not now, stupid Mycroft! The stupidest Mycroft of all the Mycrofts! I don't want to!

'I am at the middle of an experiment!'

'You stink!'

'Well, thank you, dumb jerk! That's because of the dust I created **entirely** on my own.'

I close my eyes. _Hey! What about some recognition? Clap-clap? C'mon!_

'I'll be the mother.'

'No, I don't need to take a shower, stupid Mycroft. You know I always win the idiotic bath battles. I deduce you've just eaten your third cake for today,' Mycroft steps back. Ha! Gotcha!

'How-...' after a second of hesitation, he grabs my collar again, 'Never mind, little creature. Let's go!'

'I will tell Ma! She will call you a 'fatty' once again and you will never see a cake till the end of your miserable and pointless days!'

_What are you doing, imbecile? Wait? Are you lifting me? Take me down! Immediately!_

'I **insist**!'

'Yeah, yeah. Not today, Sherlock. And we should get rid of all this dust. It's disgusting.'

'No, it's not. You know nothing, you dumb ass! Dust is what I have. Dust protects me.'

Mycroft probably sighs now. My neck starts itching – he has grabbed it too hard. Oh, he doesn't even touch it... Well, it's because of the dust experiment then... So, it works! Ha!

'Noooo! I need this dust, it is evidence!'

'You don't say.'

Here we go – the bath is just a step away from us. No, no, no! It's dangerous in there. I don't want to.

'Mycroft, you know the cats don't like the H2O, don't you?'

'Yes, Sherlock. But you are certainly not a... _cat_.'

I fold my arms and frown. Mycroft, as I can notice, is desperately trying not to laugh.

'Ok, Sherlock, let's do it that way – if, after all, you do accept to go in-there today, I would like to make you sure this bath of yours will be quiet nice experience for you.'

'Really?'

I raise my eyebrows. Not fascinated at all. Mycroft nods with a smile, handing me the towel.

'You can take a bath on your own. I will be waiting for you outside.'

'What for?'

'For you to look pretty and to smell nice, as Mummy says. You know how it always upsets her.'

'It's _**me**_who upsets her? Do you think so,.. _fatty_?'

'Right, right. Go there. I will wait for you. Just... wash this dust away from your body.'

I grab the towel and unwillingly open the door, murmuring under my nose. I can hear Mycroft chuckling behind my back – silly Mycroft. I hate you so much. You'll see how much exactly... right after I am finished with this bath thing. Mummy will know _everything_. She will throw away all your cakes.

I sigh.

'Bath is boring. And useless. And pointless. And dumb.'

'Yes, Sherlock, go there.'

'I was not talking to _**you**_, prick!' I shout. Mycroft continues giggling. Urgggh! 'If I wash the dust away, I would have to start deducing and experimenting from the very start... And I would never see the cat of Mrs Pebble. Pfff... I was _**so**_ close this time.'

Wait! We don't have soaps or shampoos with this fragran-...

_John? _What, the hell, is he-...

'Hi, Sherlock!'

I look blankly at him. My towel is all soaked up cause I let it fall upon seeing John. In _my_ bathroom. In _my_ tub. Playing with _my_ Skully.

'John, I appreciate your... nakedness...' I cough, 'But what, for Goodness's sake, are you doing in my bath?'

'Oh, yes! Well... my parents forgot to pay the water bills. So we don't have water in our house now. And it'll be like this for the next three or four days – you know, there're holidays now and no one works. Even in the Council.'

'Right. And why in _my_ bath? Is it a _public_ bath? No, tell me – perhaps I've missed something, haven't I?'

John blushes and tries to cover it with more foam and with the shining skull.

'Because you are my _**friend**_, Sherlock. I thought I-...'

'_I don't have frrrrriends_!'

Silence. John swallows. His dark blue eyes are at first directed judgingly at me, and then he looks away. I can clearly see he is hurt. He hugs Skully tighter than ever.

'I wonder why...' he whispers and takes the soap to wash the already perfectly shining skull in his trembling hands.

The silence goes on.

Well, I certainly did not mean _that_... I do have-... I have _John_. I wonder what I would ever do if I don't have him. See – Mycroft forces me to do unpleasant things, Ma always misunderstands my experiments, and Mrs Pebble calls me a psychopath. Molly is always hurt by the things I say. Always. According to Donovan I am a freak. Every time I try to talk enthusiastically to _Greg _– God, what a stupid name! – Lestrade, about my experiments, he tells me it's _not his division_. I don't listen to Anderson cause he lowers the IQ of the whole kindergarten. Only Jim is quite interesting but when I decided to be an angel for Halloween, he told me that I am a _doofus_ and that I am _just an ordinary Sherlock, on the side of the angels_. Well, it was interesting being an angel, I have to admit that. I was the angels' leader. However... I may be on the side of the angels but don't you think for a second, Jim, that I am one of them.

And then there is _John_. He always tells me I am amazing, fantastic, extraordinary, perfect... He has already expressed all his astonishment of my brilliance in every way available in the English language. Perhaps he should start learning other languages. Latin, for example. Oh, God...

'Listen, John...' I am trying to walk slowly because I really don't want to slip and to fall down. Finally, I reach the water taps and grab them for a balance, 'What I've just said... I really mean it. I don't have friends. I've just got _**one**_.'

John's eyes lock on mine. He hands me Skully and smiles a bit.

'No one could be such an annoying and disrespectful dick all the time, Sherlock. That's why I love you so much.'

Not good. We both are red now. I start coughing. John joins me.

'Doing an experiment on Mrs Pebble's cat again?'

I nod. John laughs – his cute chuckling makes my smile go wide while I take off my dusty clothes to join him in the tub.

John throws shampoo water in my eyes. Ouch!

'Oh, youuuu!'

Wait! It's not shampoo!

'John, what's _this_?'

John chuckles a bit louder.

'Chocolate mousse. It was for Mycroft's cake. But **I**,' John puffs up, 'managed to steal it. Haven't done it for months.'

'Enjoyed it?'

'Oh, God, yes!'

We both start giggling. I stop at some point and just watch him. His small blonde head moves back and forth as his tiny body is making mini waves in the tub.

'John?'

'Yes, Sherlock.'

'The thing... You did...'

'The stealing?'

'Yeah. No. Not only. This thing...'

'Oh! The bath?'

'Yes,' I scrub Skully, 'It's good.'

'Thanks God Mrs Pebble can't see us.'

'Uh?'

'You. Taking your clothes off and joining me in your tub. The neighbours might talk.'

'The neighbours do little else.'

We burst out laughing once again.

'Sherlock Holmes! Where, the hell, is my mousse?'

I cough and spring out of the tub.

'I'll be back in a moment,' I wink at John while trying to put on the clothes Mycroft handed me before.

When I enter the kitchen, I see him eating another enormous piece of cake.

'Right, Mycroft. I can't see the problem here. You are actually _eating_a cake now!'

'Yes!' answers Mycroft with full mouth, 'But my mousse is gone.'

'I see. I will deduce this matter later.'

'Wait! Where are you going?'

I go back to him and look him with the most innocent look possible.

'Mycroft?'

'What is it now, Sherlock?'

'May I have another bath today?'

I can see his eyes widen.

'Thank you!'

I rush back to the bath and lock the door. John is humming a stupid song under his nose.

'What are you singing, John?'

'Wash, wash the kitty! Scrub, scrub the kitty...'

'Wait! Is this Mrs Pebble's cat?'

'Yes, Sherlock.'

'How-... Oh, John!'

'Shhh... You can't put it on fire now but at least you can water-experiment on it.'

John grins as I try to suppress my laughter. We both hear someone talking with Mycroft. Heavy steps.

'Sherlock, hurry up!'

I have no time to take off my new and clean clothes. Mycroft starts unlocking the door. Both of us can hear Mrs Pebble's hysterical screams. I look at John and he nods in response, hiding the kitty in the cupboard just near the tub.

'Ready, John?'

'Yes, Sherlock.'

'When I say it, you know what to do, don't you?'

'Yes, Sherlock.'

The door is unlocked and we both shout.

'**Vatican Cameos**!'

I grab John's hand as we are both under the water and put my other hand on his mouth, not letting him giggle. Oh, having a bath is the most breathtaking experience in the world!

_In the most literal sense possible._


End file.
